Meet Cute
by Not-So-Hopeless Romantic
Summary: “What happens on Saturday?” She questioned. “I kill you.” He responded before slowly turning his back and leaving her... Buffy and Spike’s first meeting from his POV.


He hid in the shadows, watching the blonde fight his lackey in the dim alleyway behind the club. Poor Daniel drew the short straw by being one of his best fighters. It was nothing personal, but he had to know the extent of her skills. What better way than by putting her to the test? He watched as Daniel made a leap toward her as if to grab her shoulder, but she quickly turned to the side, Daniel's momentum sending him forward enough for her to land a kick right between his shoulder blades. "Good girl, Buffy", he praised quietly so not to draw her attention.

Buffy... Buffy, Buffy, Buffy... Can't say he had ever heard that name before which, in his over a hundred years of walking the Earth, was saying something. His eyes followed her every move as he turned her name over in his mind. Buffy gave two rapid punches, Daniel blocking the first but caught off guard by the second. Spike felt like a lion sizing up... not a gazelle, no, he wasn't that naive. His experience with past slayers thought him they were anything but fragile, easily-frightened creatures. No, sir... He felt like he was sizing up another lion. He recalled a fact he heard while watching a documentary on the beast some time ago... _"When lions take over a territory, they soon kill the lesser pride's cubs to ensure their genes are not passed on". _Sounds about right, except killing one slayer doesn't ensure another won't take her place since there's nothing genetic about it. Not that he would want that anyway. Hunting and killing slayers had become a sport to him. He fingered the collar of his leather duster, his trophy from the last slayer he killed.

He stepped out of his inner musings to see that the girl was making nice work of Daniel, quickly reducing him to nothing more than a pile of dust. "Ashes to ashes, we all fall down", Spike whispered to himself with a smirk. Ultimately, he was impressed. Buffy was clearly who Shakespeare had in mind when he wrote, _"though she be but little, she is fierce"_. She may be the strongest of the slayers he's fought before. She fought swift, precise, and clean... too clean. Spike prided himself on his ruthlessness during a brawl. Always take the cheap shots, always kick them while they're down, always fight dirty. Her cleanliness will be her downfall.

"Show time", he whispered before beginning a slow clap as he sauntered out of the cover the shadows provided.

"Nice work, Buffy", he said, this time addressing her. They locked eyes and he watched her give him a blink, brows furrowing in confusion. "Who are you?" She asked, caution with an under lacing of warning in her tone. She was threatening him without so much as twitching the hand that was still wrapped around her stake. Oh, this was going to be so much fun. "You'll find out on Saturday," He answered her almost lazily, to show her that he wasn't the slightest bit afraid. "What happens on Saturday?" She questioned. Hook, line... now time for the sinker.

"I kill you." He responded before slowly turning his back to her and leaving, again showing her that he didn't feel threatened.

He was no bottom feeder. He was William The Bloody, the Slayer of Slayers. Dru's words floated through his mind, _"I see the sunshine, my William... but she's not looking at me. She's looking at you." "The slayer?" He questioned. That had to be who Dru was referencing. She had been having visions about the slayer girl since they got to town. "Yes..." She breathed, her voice frail. He had to hurry and kill this slayer so that his kitten would finally eat and be restored to her full strength. How he missed his black goddess, so powerful and strong. "Is the light fading from her eyes? Tell me, Dru, is she looking at me as she draws her last breath?" He asks, taking her by the shoulders and looking into her dark eyes. "I can't say... The voices are too garbled... like a rope all tied in knots." He sighed and began to pace. Getting help from Dru's visions wasn't an option this go round. _

He focused his mind back to the present and opened his ears, half expecting to hear Buffy following him, unwilling to wait until Saturday's grande finale. There were no footsteps, no quiet breathing, no noises outside the hum of nature around him. Goldilocks must be willing to play... or did she deem him unthreatening? Was she preparing for their next meeting or had she not graced him with a second thought after he left? He caught himself frowning at the latter, before shaking it off. "It doesn't matter what she thinks of me now," He said to himself as he slipped his smokes from his coat pocket, "She'll soon be nothing more than an empty bloodbag and then she won't have any thoughts at all." That cheered him. He was going to bag his third slayer and it was going to be bloody brilliant.


End file.
